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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101230">and into the lush</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/panyang/pseuds/panyang'>panyang</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempt at Humor, Comedy, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Timeskip, Relationship Study, Romance, Vignette, but when is he not, hinata is a bit of a gremlin in a part of this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:34:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/panyang/pseuds/panyang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Miya Atsumu and farting around your significant other as a relationship milestone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and into the lush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>my tl has been nothing but atshn and i am weak, so very weak. i think i went a little ham with the embarrassing shit on this and i cant tell if thats a good or bad thing, but hey. this is really just a dumb, lighthearted thing i wanted to write because i need good feelings.</p><p>as always, i was entirely mindless during writing this but i think i've taken care of most typos now. i really need to start proofing and beta'ing before i post i think. if you catch something particularly bad, hmu!</p><p>i hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>FIRST KISS + SWAN 1.0</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Their first kiss happens at the tail end of a first date that has gone horribly, magnificently wrong. It's a picnic date at a local park, because something about the idea of sitting in the grass, relaxing with Shoyo is massively appealing to him. He can picture it now, Shoyo basking in the sun, Atsumu basking in him. He’s an indulgent man. He wants to see him lounging on a blanket eating fruit, happy. He’ll take him on as many picnics as he likes, even if they only bring blue Gatorade because that’s Shoyo’s favorite flavor, even if Atsumu truly cannot stand it. </p><p>The date goes wrong because - well, Atsumu will explain later - but the important part is that Shoyo has walked Atsumu home. Atsumu’s hair has dried during the car ride back - again, he’ll explain later - but his clothes are definitely still sopping wet. He didn’t bring an extra bag of any kind, so he just holds them in a soft, wet pile away from his body. He's wearing Shoyo's sweatshirt, but he's still got the same pair of wet jeans on because he didn't have anything else to lend him. The hood of his sweats is warm on his neck, soft and smelling distantly of fabric softener and mint gum. It smells safe. Feels safe.</p><p>“I had a lot of fun,” Shoyo says, smiling. He leans in and kisses Atsumu on the cheek. “Me too,” Atsumu replies. He really did. Even after all that cardio. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>OTHER PLANS</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It's a little known fact that Shoyo's mother is every raging bit as stubborn as he is. He's had to have gotten something from her, after all. His hair and eyes were from his dad, the height and pertinacity from her. It's why she still lives in Miyagi, even after all this time, and despite all of Shoyo's volleyball sponsorships and commercial income. "Not that it's a lot," Shoyo always adds. "I just think she should let me take care of her sometimes."</p><p>"I get what you mean," Atsumu says. "Mama still doesn't let me or Osamu buy her things sometimes. I once got her one of those fancy nonstick ceramic shit for the kitchen. She'd have none of it."  </p><p>They're draped over each other on Atsumu's shitty couch watching a Cooking Mama speedrun on his TV, and Shoyo's hair is tickling his nose. Atsumu is determined not to move, because this is the first time Shoyo's come over and stayed so long. He has an apartment of his own a few blocks away, but he's usually gone before six because he says he likes to have enough time to make dinner without feeling like he has to hurry through it.</p><p>It's a relationship milestone, he thinks with reverence, Shoyo on him, on his shitty couch, twenty minutes past six. So he's feeling brave when he says, "D'ya wanna order in? I know you like that burger place we ate at last time." </p><p>"Ah," Shoyo says, craning his head to look up at the clock. "Let's not." he says, sitting up. It makes Atsumu a little sad, but hey. It was worth a shot. "Okay. That's fine. Do you want me to walk you back?" Shoyo turns back to look at him, ears pink.</p><p>"Oh," he says. "I was thinking maybe we could make something together?" His voice trails off a little at the end. "Oh," Atsumu says. Then, "Oh! Yeah! Yes, yeah, let's do that!"</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>BABY SISTER TROUBLES</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I still think you should consider moving to Tokyo,” Shoyo says to his mom again. “I can take care of it, get a nice place for you and Natsu.”</p><p>"That's <em> your </em> money," she insists. She's leaned over the sink and scrubbing at some dishes. Her dark hair is long enough that she can tie it into a little ponytail now. "And it's still a while until Natsu goes off to college. I should at least wait to see what her plans are." That makes some sense, Shoyo guesses. Sometimes he feels a little bad for her, getting left all the time. After he came back from Brazil he had settled back into his room like he never left. He doesn't think she had that same luxury.</p><p>"Okay," is all he says instead. He'll bug her about it another time. He's sitting on their dining chair, arm slung over the back as he watches her line the dishes up on the rack to dry. And then he says, "There's someone I'd like you to meet." She turns back to look at him at that.</p><p>"Ooh?" she says, drawing out the sound. Her forehead is wrinkled in a playful, mischievous look. "Yeah," Shoyo says, grinning back. "It's gonna be great."<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>"It's gonna be terrible," Atsumu says. They're walking down the street leading up to Shoyo's house, Atsumu armed with the most extravagant bundle of flowers and all the courage he can gather in his best shirt and nicest pair of jeans. His heart had fallen out of his ass at some point during their commute to Miyagi from Tokyo, and their whole walk down the block was just him asking Hinata to talk him through it. He can think of a whole bunch of scary shit that's happened in his life, and somehow nothing seems to come close to meeting Shoyo-kun's mom for the first time. </p><p>"It's gonna be fine," Hinata insists, determined. He's gone and reached for Atsumu's hand and has started rubbing soothing circles on it with his thumb, but he's smiling in a way that looks both endeared and smug. It makes a part of Atsumu believe that he's secretly having fun watching him pale as they stop in front of the gate. How high school is this. </p><p>Shoyo rings the doorbell with a free hand, Atsumu's poor little heart falls out his ass a second time, and then Natsu opens the gate. They've never met before this, but it isn't hard to guess who it is - not with the eyes or the hair.</p><p>"Are you the one with the onigiri store?" Natsu asks right off the bat. She hasn't even stepped aside to let them in. "Natsu!" Shoyo squawks, scandalized. Atsumu laughs awkwardly. "It's okay, Sho-kun," he turns to her, "and, err, nope." He pauses, then adds, as if to appease her, "But I <em> am </em>your nii-san's setter." </p><p>Natsu's face betrays nothing, says only, "I see. Like Tobio-nii in high school." Wordlessly, she steps aside. Atsumu's heart is now very well-acquainted with the feeling of dropping on the floor. </p><p> </p><p>"She's just teasing," Shoyo says as they come up and toe their shoes off by the door. "I owe her Adlers merch and she's determined to make my life hell until I get it for her." Atsumu manages a laugh, but he's still flustered. He should've known better; it's always the younger sibling you're supposed to be more afraid of.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b></b> <b>HE'LL EXPLAIN IT NOW, i guess</b></p><p> </p><p>You'll have to forgive Atsumu for being vague about this. It's tremendously embarrassing, and he'll never be able to live it down, there's already a thirty-odd thousand retweets on the video of it going around. Actually, he doesn't even have to explain it at all. If you Google the words "miya hinata feeding swans at park", there will be about 190,000 results in 0.49 seconds. It's excessive, and there would be less results if Yaku didn't have a Twitter and a basic grasp of Photoshop. Or a fundamental understanding of meme culture.</p><p>Osamu, equally terrible, had gone through the first 17 pages of these results and painstakingly sent every photo he could find of Atsumu dripping wet, crawling out of the lake then sprinting away from a swan. Atsumu has every reason to believe that when he and Shoyo get married their teammates and family will have prepared a Powerpoint presentation of these photos at the ready. </p><p> </p><p>And if you must know, Atsumu would let him, so long as he includes the ones where Hinata is in the background, standing from a distance as he laughs, face open and bright.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>HOLDING HANDS + SWAN 2.0</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The first time they hold hands happens in the middle of a first date that is, at that very moment, about to go horribly, magnificently wrong. Atsumu says, "These swans sure are pretty," and edges closer to the lake to take pictures. Shoyo, who has not left their picnic set up, calls out, "Be careful, Atsumu-san!" Atsumu only blushes. </p><p>The lake is at the bottom of a slight slope. No one told him that the foot off the slope was muddy and slippery, soft from the wetness the rain had left earlier that day. It’s not that hard to guess what happens next.</p><p>So to clarify, no, they don’t hold hands as a cute thing. It's Shoyo having to haul Atsumu’s ass out of the water as he is thoroughly assaulted by very pretty, very angry birds.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>YAHOO! ANSWERS’ DATING QUESTION COMMUNITY IS MANNED EXCLUSIVELY BY FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRLS. ALSO DO YOU EVER JUST KNOW YOU LOVE SOMEONE BEFORE YOU KNOW YOU LOVE SOMEONE</b>
</p><p> </p><p>When Shoyo and Atsumu start dating, like for real dating, after they've talked it out and called each other <em> boyfriend </em> like they can’t wrap their heads around the words, Atsumu walks Shoyo to his apartment, means to lean in for a kiss, panics, and gives him the heartiest bro hug he’s ever given anyone ever. His first reaction is to be mortified, because wow, what a way to <em> no homo </em>-fy a relationship you’ve been quietly yearning for since you were eighteen, Atsumu, but Shoyo only laughs.</p><p>“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, Atsumu-san.” he says. His smile is still immaculate. Atsumu nods, bright red, and struggles to keep his knees from buckling.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he gets home, he Googles <em> how to be a good boyfriend </em>. Turns out the internet is terrible for learning about things like this, or maybe he’s just bad at it, because after two hours of poring over article after article, he feels like he’s gathered essentially nothing. Zilch. Nada. </p><p>“That’s ‘cause it’s a personal thing,” Osamu says to him over the phone. “Different people like different things. There’re general rules, sure, but a lotta this is just figurin’ it out for yourself.” Atsumu sighs. Since when was Osamu the expert on being a boyfriend anyway. He rolls his eyes and says, “Well, how d’<em>you </em>take care of Keiji-kun?”</p><p>Osamu’s answer is immediate. “Food. I mean, lots of other stuff. But mainly food.” Fucker. “But that don’t apply to ya, you suck at cooking.” Again, <em> fucker. </em> “Hey, I can take care of him in other ways. Make him laugh. I can set for him; that’s some special love type shit.” Osamu goes silent. It makes Atsumu nervous. “What’re you being all quiet for?”</p><p>Osamu coughs. “Just wasn’t expecting ya to say love. Nothing wrong with it, just - ” Atsumu’s eyes go wide, cheeks flaring. He didn’t even notice he’d said that. “Hey, I just -” Osamu cuts him off. “Don’t freak out, stupid, I’m not makin’ fun of ya. Love is good. I’ll give you a lot of shit in life but not for like, things like this.”</p><p>More silence. Osamu exhales sharply through his nose, Atsumu can hear it all wrinkled through the line, “If you’re fucking crying or something I’m gonna go over there and kick ya in the neck.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Atsumu says. He tries not to sniff too loudly. “You’re dumb as fuck.”</p><p>“You’re dumber,” he answers. “Hey, I gotta go, Keiji’s here and I’m closing up. You’ll be fine. Just don’t cook for him, that’s a guaranteed break up.”</p><p>“Shut yer mouth!” Atsumu shoots back, but he’s laughing. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>SAFETY HAZARDS AT FITNESS FACILITIES</b>
</p><p> </p><p>One other person Atsumu trusts with dating is Iwaizumi-san from the National team. </p><p>“I’m just kinda lost on all of it,” he says. He’s doing bench presses and punching out the words in between reps. “Like, you know. Intimacy and stuff.”</p><p>Iwaizumi-san, who is leaning over the lat machine, hums thoughtfully. “And stuff?"</p><p>"And stuff." Atsumu confirms. "Well," Iwaizumi-san starts, "you can be pretty intimate without sex, if that’s your concern.” Atsumu tries to not to flare up at the mention of sex. Why is everyone so mature about dating around here? It’s like everyone had grown out of the laughing at 69 jokes and started being cool talking about sex, but he missed the memo somehow.</p><p>“I guess so,” he answers. He does the last rep, rests the barbell on the hooks, and ducks out from underneath it. He tries to dab at the sweat on his brow with the bottom of his shirt, and it lets a slip of his stomach show, hard and tense from the workout. He can barely reach it - his shirt is a bit fit on him, so he has to pull it off entirely to wipe at his face. </p><p>“But how do you <em> know </em> you’re intimate?” Atsumu presses. Everyone else has it all figured out and he’s out here asking for relationship advice from his volleyball team’s trainer during water break. Iwaizumi only hums some more. “I wish I could tell you. I think you just kinda know, while it’s happening.”</p><p>“You don’t have examples? Like, of what things change?” </p><p>“No,” Iwaizumi says. “Tooru and me, we’ve just been like that ever since.” he says. </p><p>“That’s fair.” Atsumu says. “You guys are real cute though, that’s sweet.” he adds. “Don’t sweat it, you’re both really good for each other,” Iwaizumi says. “And I don’t think you have much to worry about in terms of, uh, intimacy.” he says, nodding towards the side. Atsumu follows his eyes and catches Shoyo looking at him as he goes through his hour on the treadmills. </p><p> </p><p>And if Shoyo trips when their eyes met, well, Atsumu wouldn’t rub that in his face. Except he does.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>BABY SISTER TROUBLES 2.0 + MARKERS OF INTIMACY (MIYA ATSUMU DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO SAY. BUT HE WILL LISTEN.) + TACOS</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Practice is rough. At least today’s was - Shoyo is surprisingly out of his element. He’s a beat too late for sets, his receives are a touch off. He’d seemed distracted all day, kind of down, so Atsumu - good boyfriend, excellent friend - had offered to take him out for tacos. Tacos have become Shoyo’s comfort food, for some reason. Not that they have it often; if anything it’s a rare thing that they go out for anything that isn’t Onigiri Miya, but Shoyo’s favorites have never made much sense to anyone. And it’s fine, Atsumu is indulgent, finds joy in the extra mile. So he goes, “Let’s get tacos - no, Bo, just me and Shoyo, sorry, next time.” Shoyo looks up at him with something that isn’t quite a smile but isn’t quite a frown. It’s the one with the soft eyes and the bottom lip sticking out and means acknowledgement. <em>I see you trying to make me feel better. </em>That’s the one. Atsumu gives him a kiss on the forehead as he passes him on his way to his locker.</p><p>It turns out it had been a thing with Natsu. Atsumu always thought growing up with a twin brother was A Lot. Turns out teenage girls are scarier than he thought. </p><p><br/>“I get that she wants to be like an edgy teenager or whatever,” Shoyo says, biting into his taco. Filling starts dropping as a part of the shell crumbles around his bite. Shoyo swallows. “I just - it’s new to me, I guess. I was always the one teasing her and telling her to leave me alone when I was in high school and doing stuff, I didn’t think she’d ever do the same with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu doesn’t really get it, to be entirely honest. He and Osamu have had fights before, obviously, but they’d been more scuffles and less shows of indifference. He doesn’t think it’s quite the same thing as your baby sister rolling her eyes at the things you say, or keeping her bedroom door locked while she listens to SCANDAL. He doesn’t know how to respond, so instead he just nods, swallows, and says, “That’s rough.”</p><p> </p><p>That’s a thing he didn’t really know about dating before, all the not relating to things but listening anyway. He only ever dated once in high school, shocking, he knows. But one guy, just the one, another setter from a different school’s volleyball team - they had to have something in common, after all, wasn’t that what dating was for? So it was volleyball. </p><p>Back then, dating was just about texting and sharing interests and walking home together. It’s about thrilling at a first date, first kiss, first handhold. They hadn’t loved each other, which was okay. But he liked him a lot, liked him best when they were playing volleyball, liked him best when they talked about the way you arc your hands in a toss brings the ball home exactly the way it should. But that had been that. Practice would end, there would be nothing else to do, and it was okay. And yeah, he does volleyball with Shoyo too, but it's different, like this. Before Shoyo, he had never realized you could love someone so much outside of the things you share, still.</p><p>And so much of being with someone is just understanding, isn’t it? Like, I don’t really get it. I’ll sit with you through it though, if you’d like?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>TOOTHBRUSH</b>
</p><p> </p><p>In the end Shoyo feels a little bit better, but decides to stay over at Atsumu’s anyway. He’s got a toothbrush in Atsumu’s bathroom sink now - Iwaizumi had called that a marker of intimacy. He gets a little surge of feeling in the morning when he sees it, even if Shoyo hasn’t stayed over. It’s more that he could, if he wanted to. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MARKERS OF INTIMACY (CONT’D) + TACOS (CONT’D) + MI CASA SOMETHING SOMETHING. NO, NOT THE VOLLEYBALL BRAND, THE QUOTE ABOUT HOUSES.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>They’re in bed together, post-taco and post-toothbrush when Shoyo lets out the single most terrorizing fart Atsumu has ever known in his entire life. You must understand; it shook the fucking bed. It’s also the first time Shoyo’s farted around him. Which is, okay, it’s not really a thing of note, it’s not like Atsumu has a list of things Shoyo’s never done around him. It’s just that they’d had tacos, and Shoyo had turned this terrible, terrible shade of purple pink, like in a panic he’d started holding his breath. It doesn’t smell like anything, not at first, Atsumu only sees his face all crumpled up, so his first reaction is one of concern. Like, my boyfriend is turning blue, is he going to die, did his exceptionally violent fart poison him to death. Before he can do anything, Shoyo’s gone and kicked him off the bed.</p><p>“Get out!” Shoyo shrieks. “This is my apartment! <em> My </em>bed!” Atsumu says, shocked. “Living room, now, go!” he's pleading now, embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>Then the smell hits. Atsumu says nothing, just exits stage left.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>THIS IS ALSO A MARKER OF INTIMACY, I GUESS (ATSUMU WILL HAVE HIS REVENGE, IN TIME)</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It turns out getting comfortable with farting around your significant other is also a marker of intimacy, except Iwaizumi never told him about this one. This one takes a while, maybe about a year or so into their relationship. They’re, well, roughhousing, you could say, at the foot of Atsumu’s bed. It’s a weekend, a good one, because they both happened to wake up at an early hour and nothing needs to get done. Today looks like hours upon hours of making out on the couch, lazy and sweet, making breakfast at eleven and eating straight off the pan. </p><p>Right now Shoyo is sitting on Atsumu’s lap, thighs bracketing him. Shoyo kisses so sweetly, Atsumu thinks. It’s so warm around each other, and Atsumu feels himself lie back on the bed as their kisses get deeper, more drawn out. He’s got a hand on Shoyo’s delicious thighs, travelling slowly towards his groin, and Shoyo’s weight pins him down on the bed. It’s a welcome force. </p><p>“‘Tsumu,” Shoyo moans between kisses. Atsumu can feel himself growing hard at that, but he’s unashamed. “‘Tsumu.” Shoyo repeats, firmer. “M’yeah?” Today is going to be so good, he thinks to himself. All of Shoyo, all to himself.</p><p>“Remember how we had tacos last night,” he says. Kisses him more. Atsumu is registering maybe, 20% of this conversation, and just grunts in assent. His fingers find Shoyo’s hips, and grips, hard. </p><p>“Hold on,” Shoyo says, maneuvering them so that he’s positioned above Atsumu and holding his hands against the bed. “This okay?” he asks. God, Atsumu is going crazy. “Yeah,” he says. “So okay. More than okay. Let’s fucking go.”</p><p>Shoyo laughs. And then, because he’s a terrible little gremlin of a man, rips out an abhorrent taco fart, right there, on Atsumu’s lap. Atsumu knows fear and it is feeling your boyfriend break wind right on top of your now-dead boner and holding you in place. There is no escape. Nowhere is safe. The longest Atsumu can hold his breath is 58 seconds and that is nowhere near enough time for one of Hinata's taco bombs to dissipate.</p><p>Needless to say, Atsumu sometimes misses when Shoyo was still shy about passing gas.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MI CASA ES SU CASA, BUT FOR REAL NOW.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"Fucker," Atsumu says for the third time that night. </p><p>"What's wrong," Shoyo asks, looking up from the floor. His new project of the week is this massive, family-sized jigsaw. The box had a little label on the corner saying it was meant to be done between three to five people. He found it on sale online and bought four, would've bought seven if Atsumu had not been the voice of reason. </p><p>"I can't find my watch," he answers. He's padding through Shoyo's flat in his boxers, upturning pillows and scanning tabletops. He's been looking for it all week; it's not in his apartment, not at the locker room or the gym, not at the store. It wasn't a particularly expensive watch, didn't have any special meaning. He just hates losing his stuff. It's one of those things he feels like he should've outgrown by now, like laughing at that's what she said jokes and sleeping through all three of his morning alarms. </p><p>"Oh, that," Shoyo says. "It's in your drawer." </p><p>"My drawer?" he repeats. "At home?" He's positive he's rifled through that drawer like, fifty times by now. It's not there.</p><p>"No, here," he clarifies. "I freed up one of mine to keep your stuff in.” Atsumu want to curl into the cold, dirty ground and cry. “You did that?” Shoyo nods slowly. “Yeah," he says. "You basically live here, anyway. Would you rather I didn’t?”</p><p>“No!” Atsumu says quickly. “No, I like it. Let me make up a drawer for you in my place, too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MIYA ATSUMU KNOWS WHAT TO SAY.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Atsumu-san,” Shoyo says in the silence. It’s maybe half an hour past one, they’re curled around each other in a mass of bedsheets and the lights are off. Was it Akaashi-kun with the quote about feeling most honest in the nighttime? “Are you awake?” Shoyo repeats. Atsumu’s eyes slip open, and he answers, “Yeah, you alright?” His voice is a little rough when he says this.</p><p>“I’m okay. I’m really okay. How are you?” Atsumu gives him a sleepy little grin. “I’m really okay, too. Somethin’ up?” Shoyo shakes his head - it’s barely visible in the dark, so Atsumu feels it more than he sees it. “Do you ever think about getting married?” Shoyo asks.</p><p>“To you?” Atsumu asks, and Shoyo punches his arm playfully. “Who else would you get married to, asshole.” His laugh is rich and bright even at this late hour. </p><p>“Hm,” Atsumu says, pulls him closer and throws a leg over his hips. “All the goddamn time, Shoyo.”</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu’s never had to think about love, in the past. Except maybe one time for school, when he and Osamu were eleven and they were asked to write about what they thought love meant for homework. Something about improving essay writing skills, whatever. He had very little to say about it, even if he knew what it was like, knew it in his dad kissing his and 'Samu's forehead before bed, or his mama asking if they needed new volleyball shoes yet. Knows it in the way Osamu will remind his mama he prefers strawberry milk over chocolate, because she always forgets to write it down when they go grocery shopping. He feels that way now - eleven, full of love, without the words for it. Just knowing, just understanding, just feeling the waves of warmth and realness and the way every moment feels endless in its light. </p><p>“Good.” Shoyo says finally, and then, “I’m gonna ask you to marry me, in the morning.” Shoyo wraps his own arms around Atsumu tighter, feels Atsumu sneak tender kisses on his head. </p><p>But Atsumu has words now. “Morning can’t come soon enough.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title credit goes to this one counterstrike gamer who uploaded clips of their games into <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6a-a3MCDNq4&amp;list=PL2PgDm3QCT47IA5VCgsbvvRRyZ2FCPGxt">this</a> yt playlist, and all the video names come together to make some beautiful poetry. you best believe i will be titling all my fic after these videos from now on. holy shit</p><p>this is baby's venture into atshn, and atsumu as a whole. feel free to let me know if you enjoyed! also please forgive natsu she's a teenage girl she's just exploring being mean to her nii-chan and clowning on his boyfriend/future husband for a bit. she'll grow out of it</p><p>ALSO yes i did change fall out boy to SCANDAL, which i only recently discovered! its an all girl rock band in japan and natsu would 100% listen to them. i know it</p><p>thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoyed :-)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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